


this dust is all that's left of us

by catteo



Series: the fault lines between civilizations will be the battle lines of the future [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Feelings, but skye was freaking out, leaving before the good stuff, which is really not like me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-09
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-17 02:42:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3512213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catteo/pseuds/catteo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ward’s back in Skye’s life and, although this time she’s not the one who shot him, she’s having some issues working out how she feels. Clearly confronting him in his room is the best way to deal with the issue. Skye’s ideas are the greatest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	this dust is all that's left of us

**Author's Note:**

> This is an extra scene from a fic that is currently only part written, featuring the continuing adventures of Kara and Ward as they both struggle to find their places in the world. I am being deliberately vague because, you know, SPOILERS. Also, I’m sure you’re all smart enough to work out what’s going on.

_You reappear and the world I'm breathing  
It tastes of all that I've been dreaming_

 

 

 

 

Skye doesn’t even bother firing up her tablet and searching the Playground's camera feeds to find him. It’s three minutes past five, and she already knows that Ward will be in his room doing his _non-negotiable_ physical therapy exercises. Skye smiles to herself, remembering Jemma’s tone as she instructed Ward in what was expected of him. She supposes that it’s comforting, on some bizarre level, that not everything about Ward was a lie. Apparently even _this_ version of him is completely type A when it comes to routines and obeying orders. And working out. It hasn’t escaped Skye’s notice that all Ward seems to have done since he recovered enough to leave the med bay is work out, or go over mission debriefs with Coulson in minute detail. Skye’s not really sure how Coulson’s managing to treat Ward like an ally, nodding his understanding as Ward points out all the ways in which the team can improve their tactical approach. She’s not the only one who’s changed. The other thing Ward seems to have become a master in the art of is leaving her alone. Skye tells herself that part is definitely for the best.

 

 

 

 

 

But Skye would’ve had to be blind not to have noticed the tension in every line of Ward’s body as Coulson informed them that he’d be partnered up with Skye, running things from here for the next mission. Coulson’s been great about things with Ward up to now, making sure that they’re never alone, that they’re never reliant on each other. There’s a part of her that aches for the easy understanding she and Ward used to have, but she pushes it down and walls it up, safe behind layers of hurt and anger and disappointment. Some days she manages to forget that part of her even exists. Skye supposes it was inevitable that this day would come; Coulson needs to find out if she and Ward can work together in a controlled environment before it happens in a situation that none of them can anticipate. Skye only wishes she had more time to prepare. Ward didn’t complain though, just nodded his understanding of the mission parameters and offered her the ghost of a smile before walking from the room, rolling his right shoulder in a gesture that’s become all too familiar. Every time he does it Skye hears the echo of four gunshots ringing in her ears, and it’s as though the months between melt away.

 

 

 

 

Ward’s shoulder has taken its fair share of abuse recently, what with Skye shooting him, and now the most recent hail of bullets that landed him, half-dead, in the med bay. Skye hasn’t quite managed to get to the bottom of how Ward managed to be standing between the enemy and the extraction point as she, Bobbi and Kara made their escape with a half-dozen gifted. She’s beginning to wonder if he’s doing it on purpose. She reassures herself with the thought that Ward’s not stupid and, realistically, he could have been dead ten times over if he wanted to be. Probably his actions aren’t a reflection of an actual death wish. Skye would _really_ enjoy it if that thought didn’t make her feel relieved.

 

 

 

 

 

As a result of recent events, Simmons has Ward on a strict routine of exercises in order to avoid fibrosis. Whatever the hell that is. And Skye tells herself that she just wants to make sure he's okay. Because it’s what she would do for any other member of the team, and she needs to start accepting that Ward’s back in their lives. Even if he’s not the same person she thought she knew. It hasn't escaped her notice that his body’s beginning to look as though it’s turning into more scar tissue than normal flesh. Really, she just wants to know why the hell he's still bothering, why he feels the need to keep proving himself to them. They don’t owe each other anything. Ward was out on his own, just him and Kara, and that's what's was best for everyone. Skye still doesn’t understand how they ended up in a situation where she needed to bring him in. She closes her eyes against the memory; Ward hitting the ground, a crimson stain spreading rapidly across the concrete, the knowledge that this time the shots were intended to do more than just slow him down spreading through her body, turning her blood to ice.

 

 

 

 

 

Skye realizes that she’s probably made a tactical error when Ward pulls open his door in response to her knocking. He’s wearing nothing but SHIELD-issued sweatpants, and there’s a light sheen of sweat on his chest. Skye’s mouth immediately goes dry, and she forgets entirely why she thought that checking on Ward was a good idea. Of _course_ he’s only half dressed, because who bothers putting on a T-shirt when they’re putting Tiger Balm on their aching muscles? Skye wonders about herself sometimes, and her complete inability to think a plan through when it comes to Ward. She remembers the smell from _before --_ menthol and spice that takes her straight back to early morning work-outs; the feel of Ward's hands on her skin when she'd twisted something in her back and he'd sworn that this was the best thing to settle it. She considered making more of a big deal of it after the first massage but, at the time, she’d thought Ward would be pissed at her inappropriate innuendos, so she just tried to forget how his hands felt on her skin. She’s grown up since then though, and she’s no longer scared to admit that she still remembers every detail.

  


 

 

  
Ward looks vaguely surprised to see Skye standing in his doorway. She's been avoiding him like the plague since he got released from the med bay and, after all, she basically made her feelings about him clear months ago. Skye doesn't know how she feels about that now. She’s finally beginning to confront the fact that she doesn't know how she feels about Ward _at all_ any more. So much has changed. She tells herself that shooting him was the right thing to do. That he means nothing to her. That the churning in her gut every time she looks at him isn't regret and sorrow and hope and a whole load of other things she doesn't know how to handle. Skye's pretty certain that his feelings towards her aren't what they were before she shot him. She doesn’t see how they can be.  


 

 

 

  
The room trembles slightly as Ward smiles at her. Skye gets a grip on her emotions as well as she can, fingernails digging into her palms, and is relieved when the shaking stills. He raises an eyebrow at her, his expression so familiar, as though they’re not complete strangers to each other now.

 

 

 

 

“So, I hope that you realize that this doesn’t mean anything. This is Coulson’s way of making sure that I’m not going to accidentally-on-purpose shoot you at some really inconvenient moment.” Skye flinches inwardly at the fact that she used that, of all examples, as her ice-breaker.

 

 

 

 

  
“Don’t worry, Skye, I’m pretty clear on where I stand with you.” He leans against the doorframe and gives her an assessing look before he continues. “Somewhere to your left with full body armor on.” Ward crosses his arms and just stares at her. Skye tries her hardest to ignore the way that something in her stomach unfurls, responding to the dark look in his eyes. For a moment she wishes that her superpowers included the ability to read minds.

 

 

 

 

 

“Yeah? Well, at least you’re learning.” There’s an awkward pause, Ward still staring, as though he’s waiting for her to say her piece, so she plows on. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be? Kara said you had a safe house. Wouldn’t that be, I don’t know, safer?” Skye realizes that she’s mirroring Ward’s exact stance and she forces herself to uncross her arms and let them hang loose at her sides.

 

 

 

 

 

“My safety isn’t really my primary concern, Skye. I want to help clean up the mess that I helped create. That’s all.” Ward shrugs at her, as though this is a satisfactory explanation for everything that he’s put them through. Skye thinks of Kara, the Ward she describes so like the person that Skye thought she knew, and it just makes her furious.

 

 

 

 

“You can deal with your mistakes anywhere, Ward. You don’t need to do it here.” Skye’s sure that she sounds convincing. She knows, though, that she feels better with Ward here. She can’t help it, the ridiculous contradiction that she doesn’t want him looking out for her whilst also somehow wanting him at her six, knowing that he’ll have her back. Skye also knows, though, that things have to change, and that Ward needs to understand that he can’t just ignore what she wants any more. Not after the last time.

 

 

 

 

 

“Don’t worry Skye, you’ve made your feelings pretty clear.” Ward's smile is sad, as though it's nothing less than he expected, this confirmation that she wants him gone. “I’ll be out of your hair just as soon as Simmons clears me for active duty.” She can tell that he’s not finished, notes the way the muscles of his throat work, the faint tightening of his jaw. “You’ll be amazed to hear that I’ve actually learned from my last mistake with you. I’m not going to stick around if you don’t want me here.”

 

 

 

 

“That’d be a first. _You_ doing what _I_ want.” Skye can’t quite keep the bitter sting of betrayal out of her voice. Every time she thinks she’s over it, the anger hits her with more force than she’s prepared for.

 

 

 

 

 

“Word is you actually saved my life. Which, I’ll have to admit, was kind of unexpected.” Ward’s smile finally reaches his eyes, and he continues, quieter than before, “I’m not going to waste it, Skye.”  


 

 

 

  
“So long as you know that staying isn’t a good idea. Nothing’s like it was before, Ward. Everything’s different now.” Skye tries to keep her voice steady as she risks a glance up at him. Ward just fixes her with a look, his expression unreadable, as he makes the slightest movement towards her.

 

 

 

 

“Not everything.” Ward’s voice is low, drifting across her skin, and Skye finds herself suddenly unable to breathe. She knows this dance, knows that she should run before it’s too late and she can’t look back. But Ward’s staring at her as though she could tell him the secrets of the Universe, as though there’s stardust running through her veins and painting her skin and, in that moment, she realizes that he _knows_. And he doesn’t care.

 

 

 

 

 

Skye tries not to think about the fact that Ward almost died nine days ago, protecting total strangers from an enemy that she used to think he believed in. She recalls Kara’s stories of how Ward helped her; of his unfailing belief that she’d get her memories back if only she trusted Skye. She remembers the way that she braced for the impact of the bullets she was sure were coming her way, only to see Ward go down in a tangle of limbs, yet another shot taken for her. She wants to scream at him. Wants to shout that she’s not ready and that this is all too much for her to fucking deal with.

 

 

 

 

 

Ward’s actions are those of the man she thought he was before he ruined everything. And he’s _not_ that person. He can’t be. Skye remembers Fitz, struggling for words, remembers the way her heart broke when she found out Ward had lied to her. The ghost of the anger she felt when he kidnapped her _again_ rises up, almost unbidden.

 

 

 

 

 

But then Skye remembers Donnie Gill's face as he stumbled backwards into icy cold water. Recalls Hunter telling her that SHIELD is just a job, not any kind of life. She hears Ward’s voice saying _someday you’ll understand_ , and suddenly the only thing she _can’t_ remember is all the reasons why she should hate him.

 

 

 

 

 

"Skye." Ward says her name, as though _nothing_ has changed. Skye looks at him, at the naked need on his face, and she can't breathe. Somehow, in the space between one heartbeat and the next, she's closing the gap between them. She’d be grabbing his shirt, using it to pull herself up against him, only he isn't wearing one. So she works with what she's got.

 

 

 

 

 

Skye slings her arm across Ward’s shoulders, pulls herself up onto her toes and pauses, her mouth almost touching his, as she realizes that Ward's not moving at all. He's not sliding his fingers through her hair or pulling her closer. In fact, he barely seems to be breathing. His face is so close to hers that she can see the flecks of amber in his eyes and the light dusting of freckles on his cheeks. Her eyes trace the path of the faint scar that runs along his right cheekbone. There's an agonizing second where she thinks that she's totally misread the situation and that Ward's finally finished with her. Which would be pretty unfortunate just as Skye's actually realizing that this is exactly what she wants.  


 

 

 

  
But then Ward’s hands are sliding up her hips and around her waist. He whispers her name into the air again as he closes the space between them. Skye spent a lot of time after her world fell apart thinking about the way Ward's mouth felt against hers. She's not sure if she's been repressing or if her memory's just faulty, because this is like nothing she's ever experienced before.

 

 

 

 

 

Ward’s breath is warm, his lips firm against hers and his tongue is insistent, sliding against hers as she moans into his mouth. His fingers tangle in her hair, exactly as she thought they would,his thumbs sliding under her jaw. She can feel his body, pressed up against hers, broad planes and valleys that are dizzyingly familiar. She feels his scars under her hands, his skin blazing hot where she touches him. Skye rakes her nails across his shoulders, just because she can. Ward's reaction is gratifying. He pulls his mouth from hers and growls against her neck, teeth fastening on her collarbone hard enough to bruise. She feels the ground beneath her feet shake slightly, faint tremors that seem to start at the base of her spine, vibrations that race across her skin. She wonders if Ward can feel it too.

 

 

 

 

 

Skye's not sure how they've managed to cover enough ground that Ward's knees are backed up against his bed, but she'll take it. She pushes him down and straddles his lap, deliberately grinding her hips down onto him. She can tell how wet she is as she presses against him and, even through two layers of denim, she can feel Ward's dick twitch. Skye hums against his mouth, a pleased chuckle that makes him pull her more firmly against his growing erection. She takes it slower this time, her hands mapping his body as she sucks on his bottom lip. She slides her palms across his stomach, skating across ridges of muscle that tense under her touch, her fingers tracing the line of hair that vanishes below his waistband. Ward suddenly stills and catches her hands in his. He pulls his mouth away from hers with a gasp and Skye groans her displeasure.

 

 

 

 

  
  
"Skye, wait, you don't have to do this." Ward’s tone is pleading, and that's all it takes for reality to come crashing in. Because Skye knows that she can't take this back. She's playing a dangerous game and she has all the evidence she needs that neither of them are bulletproof. Everything she's been trying so hard to ignore, all the anger and the doubt and the sort-of-maybe-love hits her like a freight train. And then he says her name again. _Skye_. As though it's the most precious thing in the world.  


 

 

 

 

  
It's as though she's been doused with cold water, and she untangles her limbs from his faster than she'd have thought possible. She can't even bring herself to look at him now, sure that she’ll see judgment written on his face. Skye spins around, ready to make her escape, but then, of course, Ward decides to fucking move. It's typical, really, that he'd wait for her to make a total fool of herself first. He grabs at her hand, stopping her abruptly in her tracks, and actually walks around her so that he's positioned between her and the door. As a tactical move it's excellent, but Skye reckons that if she hits him in the shoulder he'll go down for long enough to make her escape.  


 

 

 

  
"I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough to tell you the whole truth before. I was right, though, about the way you’d feel if you knew." Ward forces her chin up as he says it, making her confront every emotion that crosses his face. She doesn’t see the judgment she expected, nothing but longing and the shadows of regret in his eyes. Skye's not the one with the fresh wounds, but she feels as though she's being ripped apart by the honesty in his voice.

 

 

 

 

 

She somehow manages to drag a shuddering breath past the burn that scalds the back of her throat. She shoulders Ward aside, the door handle blurring in her vision as she wrestles the barrier to her escape open, and she runs.

 

 

 

 

 

He lets her go.


End file.
